


Hyacinths

by EllieStormfound



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28243482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieStormfound/pseuds/EllieStormfound
Summary: In which Geralt and Dandelion are at a beltane feast and Geralt cannot stop staring at his beautiful bard :)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98





	Hyacinths

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the german poem Hyazinthen by Theodor Storm
> 
> This is silly and self indulgent and of course my usual thing of yearning and pining with a good helping of self-doubt and angst right before the first kiss. Enjoy!

Geralt hid his smile behind his mug of wine. There was a bard singing - not Dandelion, he had performed earlier - but a woman in her forties with a voice so clear and beautiful it even pierced through to his cold heart. She was surrounded by a band of musicians but she was the real star of the evening, the instruments just background support. 

_ “Far off the sound of music echoes, but here the night is quiet, _

_ flowers surround me with their scent…” _

This described Geralt’s situation pretty well. He was standing on the edge of the beltane festivities of the village where he had cleared a nest of nekkers. On top of the coin they had paid him, he and his bard had been invited to join their beltane celebrations - wine, food, music and dancing. Geralt had said yes to the first two and Dandelion to all. 

Behind Geralt stretched the silent land under the clear night sky and before him danced a merry crowd. He was right on the border where these two worlds met. 

Next to him was a patch of hyacinths and they engulfed him with their heavy scent, so thick it made him sleepy. Or maybe it was the sweet wine he was drinking.

_ “I have always, always thought about you, _

_ I want to sleep,  _

_ but you must dance.” _

The singer repeated the last line a few times, her high and clear voice entrancing.

That also fit well. He had wanted to go to bed an hour ago, in the inn room he shared with Dandelion but something had made him linger. He watched his friend dance in the crowd, flitting from dance partner to dance partner, flirting and charming everyone in sight. 

Geralt knew he could just go to bed. Dandelion would eventually settle on a partner and spend the night with them, but something made Geralt stay - despite his tiredness.

_ “It never stops - the ceaseless racing, _

_ the candles burn and the violins scream,” _

This was underlined by a few fitting notes of a violin and the crowd laughed. Geralt couldn’t see any candles, but the flames of the bonfires danced as merrily as the crowd. 

Geralt was sure that there was a system to this dance. Sometimes the dancers were in pairs, sometimes in lines or circles, drawing together and asunder. But every time Geralt thought that he had figured it out, it escaped his mind again.

_ “The rows of dancers part and close, _

_ their faces glow but you are pale.” _

Okay, this did not fit so well. At least not when he looked at Dandelion. His cheeks and neck were flushed from dancing and wine and as he spun around in Geralt’s direction, the witcher could see that he had opened his doublet and loosened the laces of his shirt and that even his chest was flushed under the dark hair covering it. His blue eyes sparkled and the blond curls had shaken loose over the evening. 

Geralt shook his head. This song had wormed its way into his mind. Of course it was not about Dandelion and him. He took a long gulp from his wine.

But the next verse made him look over to his bard once more.

_ “And you must dance  _

_ and the arms of strangers _

_ nestle close to you.  _

_ Oh, be still, my heart!” _

Geralt coughed and shook his head as he watched Dandelion being embraced by his dance partner. And as if the song had willed it into existence, his heart clenched unpleasantly in his chest at that.

The chorus  _ “I want to sleep, but you must dance, but you must dance, but you must dance”  _ cascaded over the dancing crowd and echoed in Geralt’s head. He really wanted to sleep. But he stayed. Just for this song, he promised himself.

_ “I see your white dress flowing past, _

_ and your lithe delicate form,” _

In a whirl of color - not white - Dandelion flitted past Geralt. And even though Geralt knew that his bard had muscles to show for his walking across the continent and pulling his weight with their daily chores, he always had the air of delicacy about him. Maybe it was the delicate bone structure of his face. Geralt shook his head again. 

Stupid bard with his stupidly beautiful face.

_ “I want to sleep, but you must dance, but you must dance, but you must dance.”  _

The chorus sounded once more before the next verse started:

_ “And sweeter flows the night’s scent _

_ like a dream from the ripe blossoms. _

_ I have always, always thought about you, _

_ I want to sleep, but you must dance.” _

The scent of the hyacinths had gotten stronger in the heat of the bonfire. Mixed with the wine he had practically chugged down his head was spinning slowly. As the last notes of the song drifted away in the night and the crowd started to cheer, Geralt turned around and hurried away, hoping it was in the direction of the village. 

But a moment later - he had only managed to walk a few meters - he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Geralt, didn’t you hear me?”

It was Dandelion with heaving breaths from running after him, “I called after you.”

Geralt shook his head.

“Are you leaving already?” the bard asked.

Geralt swallowed because his throat was suddenly dry and said “I want to sleep.”

Dandelion smiled at him as he recognised the words from the song Geralt had unintentionally echoed.

“I can come with you,” the bard offered with a coy smile. 

Geralt swallowed and said after a moment, “but you must dance,” completing the chorus.

Dandelion’s smile softened at that even more as he stepped in front of Geralt. Gently he placed his palm on the witcher’s cheek.

“No, I don’t,” he said quietly, as if it was a secret only for Geralt to hear. The witcher’s hands found Dandelion’s slender waist and his gaze dropped from the blue eyes down to his lips. He had never before noticed how beautiful they looked, how kissable.

He made an effort to look up again.

“I don’t want to keep you away from your...dance partners,” Geralt said in a rough voice.

Dandelion giggled. “I think I’m done with dancing for tonight.” 

He shook his hair out of his face, but one strand was stubbornly plastered to his sweaty forehand. Geralt reached up and slowly brushed the blond locks behind his bard’s ear. His hand lingered there and Dandelion closed his eyes.

“Maybe we could…” the bard began. Geralt hummed as much in answer as in question what they could do.

The bard opened his eyes once more and said, “maybe you could kiss me.” 

This was not a question. And it sounded too confident to even be a suggestion. 

Breath escaped Geralt’s mouth as he opened it before he inhaled sharply. 

Dandelion eyed him closely, no trace of uncertainty, only curiosity if he had read the situation right.

Geralt’s hand lay against his cheek. Finally the witcher hummed and his lips formed something that was nearly a smile. He reassured himself once more with a look into Dandelion’s blue eyes.

So he let his fingers wander through the soft curls to the back of the bard’s head and leaned forward to close the gap. Softly he pressed his lips to Dandelion’s. And somehow he wasn’t feeling dizzy anymore. His mind was clear and focused on all the points he and Dandelion touched. 

The bard’s lips were even softer than they had looked a moment ago. Geralt sighed as Dandelion wrapped his arms around Geralt’s shoulder to draw him in tighter and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I didn't find a good translation of the german poem Hyazinthen by Theodor Storm that this fic is inspired by, so I translated it myself. But I’m not a professional translator of any kind, least of all of romantic, flowery poems! So you have to believe me when i tell you that the original german version is much softer and sweeter and atmospheric. (google and read it if you understand german). There is a song version of this poem I know from my days as a scout and it is very beautiful (if you can sing :D) and this was what I imagined the singer was singing.
> 
> Find me on tumblr [EllieStormfound](https://elliestormfound.tumblr.com/)


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